Communication of Thought
by Indigoblak
Summary: A oneshot on the Bulma and Vegeta relationship from their perspectives. Hopefully something different.


This is a one-shot that I wrote in the wee hours of the morning in a very strange mood. I have just recently seen the episode where Goku and Vegeta arrive back on Earth to confront Buu. Vegeta's reaction to being told that Bulma was indeed gone, inspired this. Love it or hate it. 

**Communication of Thought**

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"They're all gone, even Bulma."

I tell you, when Kakkarot told me that, I was… upset? No. More like shocked and then angry. Not because I cared, mind you, it was because someone had dared to take what was mine. And she was mine. _Is_ mine. Nobody is going to take her from me. Ever. If she mistakes my attachment for emotion, then so be it. It helps her sleep at night. That and sheer exhaustion. If you get what I mean.

Vegeta's at the kitchen table eating his supper. I can't believe that he can look so sexy and thoughtful while shovelling food into his mouth. It doesn't seem like he notices me watching him, but I know he does. He watches over me even when I watch over him. It's been like that since the 'Buu incident'. He's protective and possessive, and it's exhilarating. Having that man, that _Prince_, with me gives be goosebumps. Like the times when I sense him following me, behind me, around me, when I think I am alone. But I know now, I'm never alone. Not any more.

She's standing there in the doorway watching me, knowing I can sense her there. Out of the corner of my eye I see her smile, a mixture of pleasure and something else. Contentment? It's interesting to see that look on her face, even if it is fleeting. I can guess what is going on in that mind of hers. The woman plasters her emotions on her face for all to see. She'd never make it as a Saiyan. But then, would I really want her as one? I wouldn't be able to own her then. To call her truly _mine_. She doesn't know that she is. Her opinion on the fact wouldn't matter anyway. It's not like it matters about much else.

I can see him looking at me from the corner of his eye, trying not to seem interested in my presence. I smile. He thinks I don't know. Thinks I'm not aware of his feelings, thinks I can't see behind the mask. But I can. That heart of stone has a few cracks in it, I know. Letting me get to the flesh and blood concealed inside. Slowly, slowly. But I'm a patient woman. I can't say I don't mind him thinking of me as his, but if it means that he's going to be staying close, I can live with it. It helps him sleep at night. That, and complete exhaustion, if you understand my meaning. 

She turns from me, the smile still on her face. But it has a bit of spice to it now. Enough to make me want to claim her as mine again. It's what made me want her in the first place. To make sure she'd never flash that smile at anyone else ever again. No one but me. I have finished my meal and so I turn to watch her disappear into the shadows of the next room. Her mocha skin and sky blue hair swallowed by the night. I smirk. Not even that can keep her from me. Not for long. 

I walk into my room and I can sense him waiting for me. I didn't notice him pass me, but then, I can't follow his movements at super-speed. A warm breeze against my face makes me catch my breath. And then, he's before me, a darkness amongst the shadows. 

I chuckle. No, she'd never make it as a Saiyan. Never saw me coming. I raise a hand to her chin, thinking that I'll claim her mouth first, and then everything else of hers. I brush my thumb over those soft, plump lips and she sighs, her breath warm on my skin. She's already mine and she doesn't even realise it. I smirk again. She'll never know.

His touch makes my skin tingle, his kiss sending shots of electricity through my body. My hands are caught between us, on the living steel of his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, a steady and comforting rhythm against my palms. There are a few more cracks this time. A few more glimpses of the real man. He doesn't think I see them, and he couldn't be farther from the truth. But I don't ever intend on enlightening him. He'd have to discover it himself. I smile, bittersweet. He will never know.

I'll never let go.

I'll never let go.

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End file.
